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The Erhu on the R Train

By

Tunku Varadarajan

Updated Dec. 24, 2004 12:01 a.m. ET

Some Saturdays, when my son and I wait for the R train to Manhattan at our Brooklyn subway station, we play out a little ritual involving a middle-aged Chinese man, a dollar bill and a few moments of magic.

The ritual began in early autumn, I recall, when we encountered a Chinese street musician -- perhaps in his 50s, dressed in gray slacks and the sort of unfashionable parka one finds worn by recent immigrants from Asia. He was...